


Through A Lens

by kickcows



Series: Killer's Club AU [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: Undertaker has been an assassin for many years. All it takes is one mark to make him see the world a little differently.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This can be seen as a companion piece to my story - [The Killer's Club](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6705493). You don't necessarily have to read that story, but I do address things in this work that I've glossed over in that story. I hope you will enjoy reading this! 
> 
> Prompt - “I will give you my devotion until the end of time.” / “Your lips are really warm.”

* * *

The first time he sees him, it’s through the lens of his periscope. He’s one hundred yards away from where the man is dining, on the fifteenth floor of a modest hotel. Undertaker had been instructed to kill the target ‘by any means necessary’, and had set up shop in the room, after being informed that his mark enjoys dining at this one particular restaurant. He looks through the scope, and feels the resolve he normally has for his kills disappear in an instant, the moment he sees a pair of hazel eyes paying attention to their companion, seated next to him. Undertaker swears under his breath, and hates that he finds himself hesitating now, his finger barely hovering over the trigger.

The man he’s dining with looks up, and Undertaker swears that the man looks right at him, but that’s not possible. No one has that good of eyesight. Taking no chances, though, he pulls the rifle down, and hides down underneath the window. He can feel his nerves tingling, shocked by how this complete stranger has affected him, just by the way he looks. He picks up the file he’s left nearby, and takes a look at the target’s history.

“So, Mr. Vincent Phantomhive,” he looks at the picture that’s buried deep in the file. “Just who have you made so upset that they want you dead?” He touches the man’s eyes, the picture not doing justice to just how attractive the man truly is, his finger covering the small mole next to his left eye. Even from fifteen floors up, he knows a beautiful person when he sees one. He closes the file, and picks up the rifle, deciding that enough time has passed that it should be safe to attempt the kill again.

He places his eye close to the periscope, and focuses on where the man is standing with his companion. Standing? Undertaker swears under his breath, upset at himself for missing the chance to take him out while he had been sitting. Now that he’s standing, there’s too many people around that could be accidentally hit. Even though he’s a good shot, it’s not worth the risk. He keeps his eye on the periscope, and follows the man’s movements. His companion is walking to the side of him, but walking just far enough behind him that he’s effectively a human shield.

“Damn it!” Undertaker swears under his breath. As he starts to pull the rifle back down, his target - Mr. Vincent Phantomhive - casually turns his head to the side, and glances up. Undertaker feels his heart stop, as the man looks directly at him, a knowing smirk on his face.

 _There’s no way he can see me up here_. The words race through his mind, as he sees the man still looking up at him. And then, the bastard winks at him, and gives a little wave of his hand, before the man that’s acting as a human shield whisks him down an alleyway, successfully getting out of his line of sight. Undertaker falls to the floor, and can’t help but laugh. It’s been a long time since he’s had a good chase, and he’s pretty certain that this Vincent Phantomhive is going to be the elusive one. It’s been far too long since he’s actually had to _work_  at being an assassin. This should prove to be rather fun.

***

Undertaker chases after Vincent across country borders, and then across an ocean, and yet, the man still eludes him. He takes a break while in New York, deciding to enjoy a nice evening out on the town in downtown Manhattan. Making a reservation at Gotham Bar and Grill, he dresses in a suit and tie, leaving his black turtleneck and black slacks in the wardrobe. He piles his hair on top of his head, and takes his leave, but not before putting his handgun in its holder underneath his armpit. Hopping into the back of a cab, he gives them the restaurant name, and then sits back, and enjoys the view of the skyscrapers that surround him.

He arrives at his destination twenty minutes later, and heads into the restaurant. He walks up to the hostess stand, and gives her his name. “Ah, yes. Your table is ready.” He follows her, as she leads him towards the back of the restaurant. He’s shown to a private booth, and sees that someone is already sitting at the table.

Taking a seat across from his unexpected companion, he takes the menu that’s offered to him, and sits back in the booth. “Will you need anything else?” The hostess asks.

“No, thank you.” He waits until she leaves, before he looks at the man sitting across from him. “This is quite the surprise.”

“Is it?” His voice sounds even more divine than Undertaker could have imagined. “Let’s see, you’ve followed me from France, to Germany, to Egypt, back to France, and now to New York City.” Vincent Phantomhive’s hazel eyes glow with mischief. “Is it really that surprising to you, sir?”

Undertaker looks across at him, thoroughly impressed by Vincent’s recounting of their recent travels together. “I suppose it’s not. It’s more of a shock that you’ve taken notice of me. And here I thought I’ve been hiding myself quite well.”

“Oh, you have. I just know where to look for you. Or rather, my bodyguard does.”

“Ah, the man that’s your constant companion?” Undertaker sees that there’s wine at the table. He wants to reach for it, but thinks better of it, and flags down a waiter. “A glass of your finest scotch, please. Unopened.”

“The entire bottle, sir?”

“Did I stutter?” He asks, keeping a cheeky smile on his face. The waiter nods, and disappears quick. He has a feeling that the service is about to become a bit more friendly, what with his request and all. The bottle appears only two minutes later, along with two glasses. He looks at Vincent, who shakes his head, and reaches for his own wine glass as Undertaker pours a glass for himself. “Now, then. This man, he’s your bodyguard?”

A small smirk plays upon Vincent’s lip, and it makes Undertaker take a rather long sip of his scotch. “He’s that, among a few other things.”

“Sounds… complicated.” Undertaker laughs, the smoky taste of scotch lingering on his palette, as he feels his heart pound. Vincent’s smile is doing something to him that he hasn’t felt in an eternity, and it scares him. Scares him, and thrills him at the same time.

He notices a gold band around Vincent’s ring finger on his left hand. Holding the wine glass up to his lips, Vincent’s left eyebrow raises up when he takes notice of where his eyes have landed. “It’s _very_  complicated, sir.”

“And why isn’t he shadowing you right now? Are you sure you feel safe with me?” Undertaker takes another swallow of scotch, before pouring himself some more. “Surely you know who I am.”

Vincent pours more wine into his glass, then raises it up, the two of them toasting silently. “I know that you’re trying to kill me.”

“And yet, you won’t answer my other question.” Undertaker smiles, pleased that he had been right about this man. He knew it was going to be a fun chase, but he had no idea that it would turn out like this. “Where’s your bodyguard? Or, is he your lover? Or both?” He winks, cackling to himself.

“I did agree with your sentiment of it being complicated.” Vincent takes a sip of his wine. “I told him to heel, so he’s not here.”

Barking with laughter, Undertaker can’t help but admire the man’s confidence. “Heel, huh? Is he a dog to you?”

“He’s loyal.” Vincent remarks, whatever teasing look has been on his face disappears with that comment. “I wonder, could you be the same?”

Undertaker sets his glass down, and stares into his hazel eyes, feeling himself getting somewhat lost in the greenish-brown irises. “Are you asking me out, Mr. Phantomhive?”

“Perhaps I’m asking for more than that, sir.” That small smirk is back on his face, Undertaker feeling a little bit more relaxed with it there. “Is your hotel nearby?”

He follows the flow of the conversation, and doesn’t think to not tell this man where he’s staying. He could check out in the morning, and find another hotel, if it really came down to it. But something tells him that that won’t be the case. “It’s about a twenty minute cab ride.”

“Mine is two blocks away.”

“Are you inviting me to your hotel, Mr. Phantomhive?” Undertaker drains his glass for the second time. “Aren’t you interested in dinner?”

“I’m interested in finding out what’s under those clothes of yours.” The words are said so nonchalantly that Undertaker can only toss his head back with a loud laugh.

Pulling his wallet out, he takes out six hundred dollars, and throws it onto the table. He knows that the vintage Vincent is drinking is a rather pricey one, so coupled with his own bottle of scotch, it should be enough. “Well then, Mr. Phantomhive, why don’t you lead me to your hotel?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

***

Undertaker isn’t surprised when Vincent takes him to the Champagne Suite at the Towers Hotel, as he had known the man was staying there. He knows the man has money - copious amounts of it, as he’d booked his stay here for the better part of two weeks. But the luxurious space doesn’t matter to him, for he’s stayed in his own pricey rooms. When you have the means to splurge, why not live the life that you’ve earned, his his own personal motto while not on a job. The only place that he cares about at this moment is to find the master bedroom, which his mark leads him to with a quiet exuberancy.

“So, Mr. Phantomhive, how is it you know who I am?” He asks, as the door to the room is closed, leaving the two of them alone from whoever else might be traveling with Vincent. The loyal dog, no doubt.

The New York skyline illuminates the bedroom, making it unnecessary to turn on any additional light. Vincent turns to him, tilting his head to the side. “Do you want me to answer that question, sir? Or would you prefer to move forward with what I’ve invited you here for?”

“And what is that?” He finds himself drawn to the charismatic man. How could anyone put such a high price on his head? This man couldn’t have done something _that_  horrendous, could he? No person has ever garnered this much attention from him before, and it’s quite startling.

Vincent places his hands on the lapels of his suit jacket. “I think you know very well why I’ve asked you here.”

“Then, if that’s the case, do you mind if I freshen up first?” He steps away from him, not wanting the man to find his gun, for it would just cause a world of complications that he’d sooner avoid than have to explain. Yes, he’s supposed to kill this man, but that can wait until a later time. “I won’t take very long.”

His mark nods, and points to where the master suite is. “Take your time.”

He walks into the bathroom, and closes the door, feeling like a giddy high schooler. His palms are sweating, and he can feel his libido beginning to work overtime, as he can only imagine what this man is going to be like in bed. Undertaker takes off all of his clothes, hiding the gun in between his slacks and shirt, and then grabs one of the robes off of a hook, slipping it around his body. He runs the water for a little bit, just so it doesn’t seem too obvious what he’s done in here, but he thinks that somehow the man on the other side of the door won’t mind too much.

The drapes have been pulled shut in the bedroom, the room completely dark except for a small lamp that’s turned on. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they do, he sees that Vincent is in the same state of dress that he is, minus the robe. Undertaker feels something awaken in his stomach, something that hasn’t been there in a very long time, as his eyes appreciate the beauty of the naked man lying across the length of the bed, hazel eyes filled with a devious look that goes straight to his cock.

“Pity,” Vincent remarks, as Undertaker stands perfectly still in his spot.

“And why do you say that?” He asks, taking the bait.

“I had rather hoped you would be returning out here without your clothes on.”

Pulling on the belt of the robe, it hangs open. “Well, you weren’t too off the mark, Mr. Phantomhive.”

“Vincent.” Undertaker lets the robe drop to the floor, as he takes the hand that Vincent holds out to him. “Please, call me Vincent.”

Drawn onto the bed, he lays close to the man, their hands still holding on to one another. He can feel the heat radiating off of Vincent’s body, and knows that his own is doing the same. His hair falls out of its bun, as fingers start to comb through his grey strands of hair, the touch curious and possessive at the same time. “Will you tell me now how you know about what I do?” He speaks softly into his ear, enjoying how Vincent’s body fits perfectly against his own.

“Later~.” Vincent turns to look him in the eyes. “Kiss me first?”

“As you command me, so shall I obey.”

He lowers his head, brushing his lips against Vincent’s with a hint of a kiss; a promise of what’s to come. He feels his fingers gripping onto his hair, tugging on his scalp in the most delectable manner, as he continues to tease the man with soft touches of his lips. When he’s had enough of the minimal torture, he lets his lips rest upon Vincent’s for a few seconds, each of them becoming used to the other’s lips. The tip of his tongue teases Vincent’s bottom lip, who parts his lips for him, allowing him to push his tongue into his mouth. As they touch for the first time, Undertaker knows that with just this simple kiss, he’s done for.

Kisses turn to touches, as Undertaker worships his mark’s body. It’s too difficult _not_  to become infatuated by it, as his body is one of the most beautiful he’s ever been to bed with. It feels almost bittersweet that he’s supposed to kill this man, but he pushes those thoughts away, and instead centers his attention to every gasp Vincent makes with each touch of his fingers on his body. He touches his cock, impressed by its thickness, gripping it gently like he would the handle of his gun.  

Vincent’s hand touches his own girth, a pleased noise emitting from Undertaker’s throat at the inquisitive touch. “I want this in me,” Vincent’s teeth tug on his bottom lip, as he strokes Undertaker with slow strokes. “Will you do as I ask?”

“I’ve already told you, I will obey your every command,” Undertaker looks into Vincent’s hazel eyes, and feels himself growing harder. “Do you think you can handle this?” He flexes his cock, enjoying how Vincent’s eyes widen in surprise, then give hims a sultry look that goes straight to his groin.

He nods his head slow, bluish-black bangs falling over his forehead. “I’m almost certain that I can.” Vincent gives his cock a few more jerks, before letting his hand go to roll over to the other side of the bed.

Undertaker’s drawn to his back, lips connecting to the nape of his neck, as he grinds against Vincent’s ass. He hears him moan, as he drags his teeth over the nape, groaning low as Vincent pushes his hips backwards. “Are you getting what I think you’re getting, Vincent?”

“I think I am,” Vincent places a small bottle in his hand. “Is this what you were hoping for?”

Uncapping it, Undertaker moves them so that Vincent is on his hands and knees. “It would indeed be what I was hoping for.” He spreads his cheeks apart, and pours some of the liquid over the man’s entrance. “If that dog of yours takes care of you, then he’s a good lover.”

“Why do you say that?” Vincent asks, pushing his hips back as Undertaker pushes a finger into his tightness. “And who said that he was?”

“No one,” Undertaker replies, his voice a little lower than normal. He adds a second finger, and pumps them into Vincent’s body slow. “Your ass looks like it’s never seen a cock before, which is why I said what I did.”

He watches Vincent arch his back, as he adds a third finger, a low moan leaving his throat as he listens to Vincent mewl. “W-Would you like to take care of my ass for me…?”

“Yes, Vincent.” There is no hesitation in his answer. He spreads his fingers apart a few times, then pulls them out. “Get me ready for you?”

Undertaker moans loud, as Vincent’s mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. He looks down at him, watching the man take more of his girth between his lips, Vincent’s tongue tickling the underside of his cock. Black tip fingernails disappear in blueish-black strands of hair, as he holds onto Vincent’s head, pushing his cock further into his mouth. After a few rolls of his hips, he pulls Vincent’s mouth off of him, and grabs the lube. Taking his cue, Vincent pours some onto his palm, and starts to stroke Undertaker’s cock, the substance mixing with the spit that’s been left behind by his mouth.

They move towards the middle of the bed, where Vincent kneels on his hands and knees again. “Like this, please.”

Never one to argue, Undertaker nods his head, grey strands of hair now falling over both of his shoulders as he gets into position behind him. He places the tip of his cock against Vincent’s entrance, and pushes into him slow. He watches Vincent, who hangs his head low, a soft moan tumbling to the pillow as Undertaker pushes all the way into him. His hands come to rest on Vincent’s hips, and waits to move, Vincent’s inner walls tightening around him.

“I guess I was mistaken.” He starts to roll his hips slow, testing the waters, trying to make sure that Vincent is ready to take more.

“A-About what?” Hazel eyes meet his, as Vincent looks over his shoulder at him.

WIth a sharp thrust of his hips, he delights in watching Vincent’s head snap back to face forward, another loud moan spilling from his throat. “Thought that the dog had taken you, but maybe you _are_  a virgin.”

“Or maybe….you’ve just got an amazing cock.”

Grinning, Undertaker pulls Vincent to kneel, as he thrusts deep into his body. “You did ask if I would take care of your ass for you, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes!” Vincent leans his head back against his shoulder, as Undertaker starts to drive deeper into his body. “I did!”

His hand reaches around, and touches Vincent’s cock, moaning low with how good it feels. The noises Vincent continues to make pushes him closer and closer to his release, his hips moving fast as he pumps his hand with the same ferociousness. He kisses Vincent’s neck, teeth digging down a little, then more so after he’s instructed to mark him, the irony not lost on Undertaker. He does mark him, and then marks him again, slamming hard into his body. He feels his inner walls tighten around his cock, the hot heat of Vincent’s orgasm beginning to coat his hand. He thrusts hard a few more times, then pulls out, coming hard on Vincent’s stomach, who has collapsed on the bed, laying on his back, another wanton moan falling from his lips as Undertaker’s release coats his stomach.  

They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, Vincent lifts himself up to lay on one of the pillows. “Why did you pull out?” Vincent asks, hazel eyes looking up at him with an expression he can’t read very well.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not. Had I been wearing a rubber, I would have stayed in” Undertaker kisses his cheek, before brushing his lips against his with gentle kiss. “Let me get a towel for us, hmm?” He guides Vincent to lay on his back, as he grabs the robe from off the ground.

“Next time, stay in me.”

Smirking, Undertaker wipes off his hand, and then takes care to clean up Vincent’s chest and stomach. “Is that a request?”

“It is.”

“For tonight? Or the future?” He lays down next to him, knowing that it would be pointless to leave now.

Vincent rests his head on his shoulder, curling up close to his body. “Both?”

“Then it shall be so, Vincent.”

***

He leaves Vincent the following morning, slipping out of the penthouse as if he’d never been there in the first place. Perhaps it had been rather rude to not say goodbye, but how is he supposed to say goodbye to someone that he’s meant to kill for a very large sum of money? He hails a cab, his eyes glancing up the Towers building, and feels a sort of longing in his chest.

Out of the three rules for his profession, never did he think it would be the third rule that he would break first. He redoes the loose bun his hair is in, and leans back. Sunglasses hide his eyes from the world, allowing him complete privacy. They head back to his hotel, and he heads up to his room. He ignores the package that’s been pushed under the door, knowing exactly what it is - orders for his next kill - and instead heads into the bathroom. He takes off all of his clothes, turns the shower on, and gets into the showerstall. Leaning his head against the wall, the water beats down on his neck. His fist slams against the wall, a frustrated groan leaving his throat.

Damn it. This was never supposed to happen with his mark.

***

The world continues to turn. More jobs come in. His boss pesters him on why he has not yet killed Vincent Phantomhive. He gives him excuse after excuse. After a rather difficult mark, he gets another order to take care of Vincent, with an airline ticket part of the package. Guess there’s no way of avoiding this any longer. He sees that the ticket is for London. It’s been far too long since he’s returned home, that this isn’t something he had been hoping to do upon his return. However, bills need to be paid, so he takes off to London on the red eye, and finds himself in Chelsea, standing down the street from what he assumes is where Vincent Phantomhive lives. Every other time he’s been sent to find him, it’s always been when the man is conducting whatever business it is he runs.

He keeps to the shadows, blending in with his all black ensemble, his gun hidden underneath his armpit in its holster. He stays hidden, and sees something he does not expect to see, and feels the world tilt off axis for a moment. Vincent Phantomhive is walking down the street, holding hands with a small male child, and with a waif of a woman that walks next to him. Both adults are wearing the proudest smiles, as they make their way up the few short steps back up to their house, swinging the child up each step, who laughs gayly. And, just like before, the man that Undertaker has seen Vincent with time and again, brings up the rear, taking a look around to make sure that there’s nothing out of place.

Undertaker inhales when he sees this loyal dog look him directly in the eye. If he isn’t mistaken, he sees the man huff, and then makes his way up the stairs, following Vincent, the woman, and child back into the house. He leans against the stone wall he’s standing next to, and looks up at the sky.

Since when the hell did this guy have a son?

***

There’s a message on his phone in his hotel room, the little red light flashing to alert him that someone has decided to call him. He has no idea who it could be, as his company uses either his cell phone, or sends him details by post. He follows the instructions on the phone to retrieve the message, as each hotel phone is different, and places the receiver to his ear.

“I had no idea you were in town. You naughty man.” _Vincent_. “Come to this address this evening at twenty-three hundred hours. That’s 11, in case you aren’t familiar with military time~. See you tonight.” The voicemail ends.

Placing the phone back in the cradle, Undertaker isn’t sure how he feels. On one hand, his heart is pounding hard in his chest at just hearing Vincent’s voice again. That playful tone, clearly knowing just how he would react to it has him wishing he could play the message again, but he’s already deleted it. On the other hand, though - how in the world did Vincent know where to find him? That should have been impossible, but the voicemail proves otherwise.

He has no choice. Looking down at the address he’s scrawled on the cheap hotel stationery, he knows just where he’ll be tonight. Maybe he’ll get answers. Or, maybe he won’t. Regardless, he knows that he’ll be getting to see Vincent, so that has to account for something.

***

At a minute to eleven, he stands in front of a modest looking flat. It looks like quite the suburban neighborhood. Far from the neighborhood he had been staking out in Chelsea. He knocks on the door right at eleven, and steps back on the landing.

The door opens, the man he always sees tailing Vincent standing proud and tall. “Good evening.” He hears a somewhat muted German accent falling off of this man’s tongue. “Herr Phantomhive is in the study. First door to the left.”

“Danke, Mein Herr.” He hears the man grunt, which only makes him smile, as he follows the man’s instructions, and heads to the study. The door is slightly ajar, so he takes the courteous route and gives a soft knock.

“Do come in~.” The soft lilt makes Undertaker slightly sway in his spot, before he pushes the door open.

Vincent is sitting on a leather couch, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a fitted vest sitting snug around his waist. Tailored pants cover his legs, no doubt made by his personal tailor, from the way they cling to his legs. Definitely not something someone that owns a property like this should be wearing. Undertaker doesn’t shy away from appreciating the man’s beauty, a genuine smile on his face as he takes in his appearance.

“Good evening to you, Mr. Phantomhive.” He gives a small bow of his head. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Standing up from the couch, Vincent moves towards him. “You didn’t say goodbye the last time we saw one another.”

“I did not wish to wake you-”

A finger touches his lips, silencing him. “You listened to my voicemail, yet your first question is that? Tsk tsk, sir. I thought you would be asking me a different sort of question.”

“Are you wondering why I don’t ask you how you know where I was staying?” Undertaker grabs onto Vincent’s wrist, holding it loosely in his grip, as he stares into his hazel eyes. “Or, are you wondering why I don’t ask how you know what alias I was staying under, for I generally use ten different names when it comes to these assignments?” He brushes his lips against Vincent’s ear, knowing that he has the man’s complete attention. “How about I just ask what I really want to ask?” The tip of his tongue licks along the shell of Vincent’s ear, the man’s soft moan tickling his own ear. “You’re married to a woman?”

A soft laugh leaves Vincent’s mouth. “ _That’s_  your biggest concern?”

“To tell you the truth, yes.” Undertaker grins, relaxing as Vincent stays close to his body. “I know that your loyal dog informed you he saw me.”

“That he did.”

“So? You’re married? You have a child?”

Vincent walks over to a cart, and pours what looks like bourbon into a glass. “I am, and I have a son.” Vincent gestures to the glass, but Undertaker shakes his head. “The alcohol isn’t poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’d rather remain in control of my senses for the moment,” Undertaker smirks. “So, a son, huh? And where is he?”

“He’s at home, with my wife.”

Stepping closer to him, Undertaker places his hand on the side of Vincent’s face. “If they’re at home, then where are we?”

“My second home, that only two people know exist.”

“Oh?” He strokes his thumb across his cheek, before brushing it against his lips. “And who are those two people?”

“You, and Die.”

He hovers close to his lips, his thumb still rubbing against Vincent’s lower lip. “And who is that?”

“My loyal dog.”

“I am NOT a dog!” The man with the German accent makes his presence known to the two of them.

Vincent turns to look at the other man. “You’re right. You’re not a dog, Die. You’re much more than that.” Hazel eyes turn back to Undertaker. “Perhaps it would be best if we continue this conversation in a more relaxed setting.”

“If you mean the bedroom, lead the way,” Undertaker says, lowering his hand from Vincent’s face.

“I do mean that,” Vincent nods his head. “Die? Come along~.”

“I’m right behind the two of you.” The man he keeps calling Die says, as Undertaker is led out of the room, the two heading up the small flight of stairs.

“You see, my wife knows that I have certain…. _tendencies_  that I need fulfilled. Ones that she knows she’s not capable of. She doesn’t know of this place, but she does know that Die and I….well.”

Undertaker follows him into a modest sized master bedroom. “I thought you said that your loyal dog and you hadn’t fucked.”

“And I do remember telling you that you have an amazing _cock_.” Hazel eyes hold a hint of desire, as a smirk plays upon Vincent’s lips. “Or, did you forget that?”

Moving closer to him, Undertaker places his hand on Vincent’s waist, and gives it a rough squeeze. “No man ever forgets when another man compliments them on their appendage.”

“Does that mean you’ve been thinking about me~?” Vincent smiles coyly at him, his hand reaching down to cup Undertaker’s stiffening cock. “Because I’ve thought about you~. Quite a lot, as a matter of fact.”

“Bet your dog doesn’t like that too much,” Undertaker starts to kiss along Vincent’s jawline, lips gravitating towards his Adam’s apple, as Vincent leans his head back a little for him.

A soft moan leaves his throat, the noise Undertaker has heard in his dreams far too often as of late. “Die doesn’t mind too much, do you?”

“Tell him my full name, Vincent.” The German has joined them in the room, the door closed, trapping the three of them in the room. “Or, should I do it?”

He hears Vincent huff, but sees only a smile on his face. “Fiiiiine. This is Diedrich. My not-so-secret lover, and bodyguard.”

“So I was correct,” Undertaker hums thoughtfully, as he watches Vincent drape himself over Diedrich’s shoulders. “I’m assuming that you know who I am?”

“I know who you are, _Undertaker_ ~.” Vincent replies, a coy smile on his face. “And I know just what you do for a living.”

It shouldn’t surprise him, for he knows the man has found him at his hotel, but hearing it still does make him feel a little uneasy. “And just what do I do for a living?”

“Assassin.” Diedrich says, his arm wrapping around Vincent’s waist. “You kill people for money.”

“And we want to offer you some money,” Vincent states.

Undertaker watches Diedrich begin to take Vincent’s clothes off, as if it’s second nature to the both of them. “How much?”

“Double what they’re offering you for his head.” Diedrich replies, pushing the shirt off of Vincent’s upper body. He kneels down, and pulls the belt off that’s around Vincent’s waist, and pulls his pants down.

“Double sounds doable, but they’ll want to know that I’ve succeeded in the kill.” Undertaker feels like he’s having an out of body experience. Should he be making such a deal with these two men? What’s the risk?

Vincent starts to undress Diedrich. “My wife knows that there’s always been a chance that I will be killed, due to my line of work. That’s where Die comes in.”

“How do you know you can afford it? Perhaps the price is too high for you to say you can pay me.” Undertaker knows that this man has money, given how often he’s had to hop on a plane to chase after him.

Diedrich looks at him, his face impassive. “You know that he can afford it. Why bother questioning it?”

“What about your wife? Won’t she be suspicious when a large sum of money goes missing from your account?”

The soft laugh that leaves Vincent’s mouth makes Undertaker’s stomach roll pleasantly. “She has no idea that this house exists, Taker. Do you think that I keep _all_  of my assets in one place?”

“Aren’t you afraid that I will take the money, and still kill you? And your loyal dog?” The words are false, and he knows that both men can hear it in his tone.

His former mark shakes his head, a knowing smile on his face. “I trust you, Undertaker. So, now that that’s cleared up, why don’t you join the two of us this evening, hmm~?”

“And how does the German feel?” He looks at Diedrich, who is looking back at him, the expression difficult to read on his face. “Are you for or against this sort of arrangement?”

Diedrich clears his throat. “I find you very attractive. I know that Vincent feels the same. He often speaks of that night you two shared in New York.”

“Really?” That news surprises him, as he sees Vincent look away. If he isn’t mistaken, he thinks he sees pink on Vincent’s cheeks, the man blushing at Diedrich’s remark. “So, he told you what we did in the Towers, did he?”

“I was in the room next door,” Diedrich remarks. “I heard it all myself.”

Now it is his turn to blush, feeling rather embarrassed. “I thought we were alone.”

“As he had wanted,” Diedrich reminds him. The three men lay down on the bed, Vincent settling between Diedrich and Undertaker. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed, just….surprised.” Undertaker watches how Vincent interacts with Diedrich, feeling his stomach dip a little, enjoying the show. Vincent presses his chest to Diedrich’s back, allowing Undertaker to lay behind him, and rest his chest against the warmth of Vincent’s back. “May I ask how long the two of you have been in this relationship?”

Vincent rolls his hips back, Undertaker’s cock sliding between his cheeks almost immediately. “Mmm… Long enough, I suppose,” Vincent moans softly. “Isn’t that right, Die?” 

“Too long,” Diedrich grumbles, then makes a low keening noise, as Vincent bites down gently on the meat of his shoulder.

Undertaker’s lips gravitate towards the nape of Vincent’s neck. “And you’re willing to let me into this intimate circle of yours?”

“Yes.” Both men say in unison.

“Then I am honored to be apart of this unit.“ The words sound cheesy, and he sees both men stop what they’re doing to one another, and look at him.

Vincent’s the first to make a comment, a smirk on his lips. “Wow, Undertaker. I had no idea you could be such a sap~.”

“It’s not that,” Undertaker feels the heat return to his cheeks. Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say, but that’s how he truly feels. “Look, I know that I’m intruding onto something that you two have been engaging in for quite some time. I’m a complete stranger to one of you, and the other - well, we have our own version of complicated now, don’t we?” He looks into Vincent’s eyes, and sees him nod with a pleased smile on his face. “I just want the both of you to know that I’m not someone that’s going to just fuck and run.”

“Are you sure about that?” Vincent teases him.

“Okay, _that_  time was different,” Undertaker smirks. “What I mean to say is that you both have my word, in regards to this relationship. Given the nature of my profession, just know that I will protect the both of you with my life.”

“That’s wonderful. Now, how about you shut up, so that the three of us can have a proper shag, hmm?” Vincent pushes his hips back, teasing Undertaker’s cock.

His hand goes to Vincent’s waist, as he moans low. “No more words.”

“Very good, Taker~.”

It’s a learning affair, as he’s never been into having multiple partners at once before. Vincent remains in the middle, controlling both men on either side of him, pushing Undertaker’s cock into his prepped ass, and then takes Diedrich with helo of a powerful thrust from Undertaker. He grabs onto Vincent’s hip, and sinks himself more into the tight heat, marveling at how good it feels to be in this position again. They roll their hips in unison, backwards and forwards, finding a steady rhythm that is enjoyable for the three of them. Undertaker’s lips stay anchored on Vincent’s neck, biting and sucking small marks along the expanse of his neck, licking each one after he’s satisfied with the result. Vincent reaches for his hand, and then places both of their hands over Diedrich’s cock, which Undertaker is rather impressed by. Big and thick, precum dribbling out of the tip as their hands wrap around it together. He has a feeling that he’s in Diedrich’s normal position, but with the noises he’s making from Vincent’s powerful thrusts, the man must enjoy being on the receiving end as well. It becomes a game, to see who will break first, as Undertaker thrusts deeper and harder into Vincent, forcing him to do the same to Diedrich. Wetness ebbs from the tip of Diedrich’s cock, as the man lets out a loud moan, covering both Undertaker and Vincent’s hands, as they work him through his orgasm. Undertaker feels Vincent tighten around his own cock, the soft moan that’s released from Vincent’s mouth sounding even more divine than the last time he had gotten to hear the sound. With a few hurried thrusts, he slams himself in as deep as he can, and finds his own end, his entire body becoming flushed as he comes with a low groan against Vincent’s neck.

He moves first, laying on his back on the bed, his breathing labored. He sees Vincent and Diedrich kissing, and can feel his groin stirring, as they share with each other knowledgeable kisses. When their kiss ends, Undertaker is surprised to see Diedrich leaning over Vincent, but decides to meet the man halfway. They share a  soft kiss, each getting to know what the other likes - soft touches, hard touches, teasing yet forceful tongue play. Vincent makes a noise that has both men smirking against each other’s lips, as they start to slow down their kiss.

“Your lips are really warm,” Diedrich remarks, his hand touching Undertaker’s bottom lip. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Well, if they weren’t, then I’d be dead.” He cackles, enjoying the redness appearing on Diedrich’s cheeks. “But I’m glad that you like my lips.” He trails his finger along Diedrich’s cheek, smiling.

“You should feel his cock, Die. It’s quite impressive,” Vincent remarks.

“Mmm.” Diedrich looks down at Undertaker’s lap, the man not bothering to hide how aroused he is already. “It is quite nice.”

Vincent looks into his eyes, as Diedrich starts to touch his cock with his lips. “Where’s my kiss, Taker?”

Moaning low, he places his hand on top of Diedrich’s head, loving how good the German’s mouth feels, and finds himself leaning down to be closer to Vincent. “You want me to kiss you, do you?”

“It’s only fair. I kissed him, he kissed you. Now it’s my turn.” Hazel eyes become half-lidded, as Undertaker inches closer to his lips.

Diedrich pulls all of his cock into his mouth, making Undertaker let out an appreciative moan. “Your German knows how to use his mouth quite well.”

“ _Our_  German.” Vincent corrects him, his voice a soft whisper. Diedrich hums low around Undertaker’s cock, as his fingers curl just a little bit tighter in his hair. "Kiss me right-”

His lips collide with Vincent’s, the request transferring to his mouth, as their tongues tongue. He moans low into the kiss, torn between focusing on Vincent’s mouth, and Diedrich’s teasing tongue. He cups Vincent’s face with his other hand, falling to the bed slow, legs spreading as Diedrich sucks harder on him. He feels Vincent’s moan against his tongue, kissing each other senseless for a good minute. The kiss ends with Vincent’s tongue rubbing against the roof of his mouth, then moves down towards Undertaker’s hips.

“Let me have some too, Die~.” Vincent purrs low into Diedrich’s ear, draining Undertaker of any control he might have.

Undertaker looks down, and watches both men lick his cock, both of his hands on top of their heads, as he closes his eyes, and submits himself to the most exquisite pleasure. These two are going to be _terrible_  for him.

And he couldn’t be happier.

***

A week later, he gets a text from one of men he works with. “ _I know you’re in town. I want you to meet me tomorrow. We’re bringing on a new recruit, and I want to get your opinion on him_.”

“Who is it?” Vincent asks, looking over at him from his desk. “Do you have another job?”

“Something like that.” He looks across the couch, and sees Diedrich looking at him. “Guess I’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow.”

“But not this evening?” Diedrich asks.

Smirking, he shakes his head. “No, not this evening. But, there’s a good chance that I’ll be gone for a couple of days.”

“Well, then.” Vincent stands up from his desk, tugging on his tight vest. He walks over to where Undertaker is sitting, and plops himself down on his lap, facing him. “This work can wait until tomorrow.”

Resting comfortably against the back of the couch, Undertaker puts his hands on Vincent’s waist, pulling him up closer to his crotch. “And just what are you proposing we do?”

Diedrich is pulled closer to them by Vincent, who then straddles himself over the both of their thighs. “I’m sure you can guess what I’d like to do.”

“What do you say, Die?” Undertaker looks over at him, having become comfortable enough with him to say his name in the same manner Vincent does. “Should we let him have our way with us?”

“Do we really have a choice?” Diedrich puts his right hand on Vincent’s left hip.

Undertaker puts his left hand on Vincent’s right hip. “I don’t think we do.”

“I’m glad that you both are such quick studies,” Vincent teases them. “Now, do I need to put your hands on my cock, or can you just hurry up with it already?”

He laughs, a loud cackle sounding as his two lovers smile. “ _Someone_  is impatient.” He teases Vincent, before cupping his hand over his arousal. “What do you say, Die? How about we torture him a little bit first?”

“You know he would enjoy that far too much.”

A low moan leaves Vincent’s throat, confirming Diedrich’s comment. “All the more reason why we should, hmm?”

“There are handcuffs upstairs.”

He pulls Vincent off of their laps, and holds him in his arms bridal style. He looks at Diedrich, one hand on Vincent’s upper arm, the other touching his hip. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he looks down at Vincent, then back at Diedrich. “Let’s go.”

***

He is _tired_. He had not expect things to get as out of control as they had the night before, but both Diedrich and Vincent had been rather demanding, and he could never say no to the two of them. Perhaps the worry that he wouldn’t be returning to see them for a few days had put them into a tizzy, after they’ve been enjoying their time in isolation for the past week, but he’s not complaining. He’ll gladly endure this tiredness, if it means having another amazing night with the two of them.

He texts the man who had sent him a text the day before, as he walks down a crowded street in downtown London. “ _Alright. Where are you?_ ”

“ _We’re heading to SoHo. I’ll be parked at Broadwick and Hopkins. His target is around Ganton and Newburgh. We will be heading there around 1. See you soon. And, thanks._ ”

Pocketing his phone, he hails a cab, and heads to where the attempt is supposed to take place. The cabbie drops him a few blocks away, and he heads into stealth mode. Undertaker blends in with the crowds around him, even though he’s dressed in his uniform of a black turtleneck and black slacks. He sees a man dressed similar to him head up the side of a building. He does a doubletake, for the man looks extremely similar to the lover he’s just left. Isn’t _that_  interesting. When he sees him take his place in a good vantage spot, he makes his way to where the car should be waiting, keeping his eyes on how well this new recruit has hidden himself in plain sight.

“So, who’s this guy?” He slides into the backseat, knowing that the driver has seen his approach, for the man misses nothing.

A black gloved fingertip pushes glasses up, light reflecting off of them. “His name is Michaelis. Slingsby recruited him, and we know that I always get stuck with his recruits.”

“Michaelis, huh.” He reties his hair up, and looks out the window. “Seems like he’s gotten the job done.” He points at the man making his way towards their car, trying to look inconspicuous, and succeeds, only because the public is too stupid. Undertaker would have spotted him a mile away.

The front passenger door opens, and slams shut, all three in the car turning towards the street as an ambulance and police car pass by. “The windows are dark enough. You can take care of that in here,” William gestures to where this Michaelis man is holding his pocket at a weird angle.

“Thanks.” The man’s voice has a velvet tone to it, making Undertaker’s loins stir a little.

He sees Michaelis’ hands tremble, as he attempts to get the silencer off the gun. “You know, it’ll get easier.” He can remember how his first kill went, and this Michaelis character is handling it quite well. The man’s head snaps around, and he sees he’s got the most interesting maroon eyes. “You did good, Michaelis. Very impressive shot.” He starts to cackle, the utter shock on this man’s face at his presence priceless.

“Who are you?” He holds his gun up, and points it at him.

William sighs, and pushes his glasses back up on his nose. “He is one of the top assassins our employer uses.”

“Before you pull the trigger, you should know my name.” He laughs again, finding it quite hilarious that this man would even think about turning a gun on him. “Name’s Undertaker.” He holds his hand out for the man to shake.

“What sort of name is that?” The confusion in Michaelis’ voice is too hilarious.

A snort comes from the driver’s seat. “I just said he’s one of the top assassins in our business. His call sign reflects that.”

“Call sign?” Michaelis looks over at William. “What’s yours, then?”

He almost doubles over with his laughter, tears starting to collect in the corners of his eyes at the innocent question Michaelis has just asked. “Go on, Spears. Tell him what your call sign is.”

“Suit.”

Michaelis blinks. “Suit?”

“Suit.”

Unable to control his laughter, he wheezes a few times before speaking. “Don’t worry, Michaelis. We’ll get you a call sign soon enough.”

“When?”

“Soon~.”

***

He doesn’t know what possesses him to pull Michaelis into the storage closet, but he does it, and soon finds himself buried deep into his tight ass. It’s the feel of the first kill - that has to be it. He can remember when his mentor had shown him the way, and how _good_  it felt to release the nervous tension in this manner.

For whatever reason, he tells him to obey the three rules, even though he himself has broken one of them. He pushes thoughts of Vincent away, as he keeps pounding into Michaelis’ ass, his hand fisting around his cock. Even through this quick shag, he wants Michaelis to understand how very important it is to _not_  get involved with someone.

“Welcome to the Killer’s Club, Michaelis.”

***

Undertaker lays low for a few days. He doesn’t want to go and see Vincent and Diedrich, afraid that someone from his agency is tailing him. He’s going to have to give proof that he’s killed Vincent, and he’s still trying to work how he’s going to do that. When he finds out that William has taken Michaelis on an assignment in Istanbul, he leaves his house and heads to the modest townhouse, where he had instructed his lover to stay until his return.

“You’re back,” Diedrich says, as he opens the door for him. “Welcome home, Herr Taker.”

Grinning, he pats the German on his shoulder. “Nice to see you too, Die. Where’s-”

“FINALLY.” Vincent stands at the top of the stairs, and quickly takes them two at a time, until he’s standing directly in front of Undertaker.

“Did you miss me that much, Vincent?” He asks, his heart beating fast in his chest, as his hands go naturally to Vincent’s waist. “I was only gone for four days.”

“Seemed like an eternity to us, didn’t it, Die?” Vincent moves closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally go home?”

“Yes, but there’s a catch.” Undertaker nods. “Come on. Let’s go sit down in the living room, hmm? I think I’ve figure out a way to make things work.”

“A quick kiss first?”

Always drawn to him, Undertaker lowers his head, and kisses his lips with a tender kiss. “As if I could ever refuse you.” He turns his head, and reaches for Diedrich, pulling him down for a kiss. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Die.”

The three head into the living room. “So, what have you come up?” Vincent sits down on the couch, Undertaker sitting across from him.

“We’re going to have to fake your death. But it has to look real to Rachel.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Diedrich asks.

“You will need to go out of town unexpectedly.” Undertaker looks over at him. Diedrich starts to protest. “No, Die. It has to be done this way. The other assassins know that you act as a bodyguard to him.”

Vincent looks over at Diedrich. “He’s right.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You won’t like what I’m going to say either, so let’s just save those comments until later.” Undertaker sighs. “Vincent, you’re going to need to go on vacation too.”

“But-”

“I will be there the entire time. I’ve told you that nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I’m around.” Undertaker looks into his eyes. “Now, you will go on vacation with Rachel and Ciel, and then I want you to take this.” He holds out a vial of clear liquid. “This will make everyone think you are dead, but you won’t be. You’ll wake up in twelve hours time. That’s enough to get you out of the morgue, and to someplace safe.” He looks over at Diedrich. “You will be there too, because I can’t take him out. We’ll need to make sure you’re a city or two away from where they decide to go.”

“What about the others knowing who I am?” Diedrich’s eyebrow raises up.

“When the money hits my account, it won’t matter. They won’t be watching.”  

He hands the vial to Vincent, who takes it with a nod of his head. “I understand. Will you tell me when you want me to take this?”

“I will.” Undertaker picks up the bag he’s brought with him, and hands both Vincent and Diedrich brand new iPhones. “Whatever phones you’re using, when this goes into play, discard them, and then we will use these moving forward.”

“What about you?” Diedrich asks. “What’s going to happen to you?”

“I won’t be able to see the both of you for quite some time.” Undertaker sighs, trying to not let the sadness he feels show. “I’m going to be working quite a bit, so that I can build up my bank account.”

“And when it’s enough?” Vincent looks at him, his hazel eyes reflecting the same sadness he can feel in his chest.

“Then we’ll meet again, and will be able to be together without any worries that someone else will try and kill you.” Undertaker looks at the both of them. “What do you say?”

Diedrich gives a simple nod of his head. “It is a good plan.”

“I’m in.” Vincent puts the vial into his pocket. “When do we do this?”

“In one month.”

“So, can we see each other until then?” Vincent asks. “Please?”

Smiling, Undertaker nods his head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good, because he’s been insufferable since you’ve left.” Diedrich teases Vincent, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

He laughs loud, head flinging back. “I bet he has been. Shall we go teach him another lesson, Die?”

“Yes, I think that we should.”

Vincent looks at the both of them, a satisfied smile on his face. “Do your worst, gentlemen.”

Undertaker and Diedrich share another look, before going after the man, and dragging him up the stairs to the master bedroom with no resistance at all.

***

He stares down at Vincent’s face, a tear sliding down his cheek, as he holds his work phone over Vincent’s body. Undertaker is in the morgue, the plan having gone perfectly. He takes a picture of the ‘dead’ body, and sends it to his employer. Seconds later, an extremely large sum of money gets deposited into his account.

Pulling his iPhone out of his back pocket, he presses the speed dial number for Diedrich. “Is he…?” Diedrich asks.

“He’s safe. I need you to come here and get him within the hour. The guard will only be asleep for so long.” Undertaker wipes the tear off of his cheek. “I’ll see you.”

“When?”

“….I’m not sure. Take care of him, Die.”

“I will, Taker. You have my word.”

He hangs up the phone, and places his hand on Vincent’s cool cheek. ”I will give you my devotion until the end of time.” His whispered words fall on deaf ears, but just saying them makes him feel slightly better. He knows he will do whatever it takes to be with his two lovers again, even if it means having to kill every day for the next year. Both men are worth it to him.

Leaning down, he kisses Vincent’s cool lips, reminding himself that he’s not dead. The illusion is complete. Undertaker pulls away, caressing Vincent’s cheek one last time, before taking his leave. _Soon, Vincent. We’ll be together soon_.

***

It doesn’t take a year. It takes close to three. Three long, agonizing years. When Undertaker’s bank account has enough funds in it to last six lifetimes, he picks up his phone, and calls his employer. “I’m done.”

“Understood. Your severance will be in your account in the morning. If we need anything…?”

“I’ll think about it.” Undertaker ends the call without saying goodbye.

He drafts a letter to Michaelis, who he’s been going head to head with on most jobs. He informs him that he’s leaving the business, and to make sure that he only kills the bad ones. Vincent had never been bad. He’d just upset the wrong people. He knows this now. Sealing the letter, he puts it on the mantle, to remember to mail in the morning, when he heads out.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his iPhone. He presses the speed dial number for Vincent’s phone, and it doesn’t even get through half a ring when he hears his voice. “Do you finally have enough money?”

“I do.” Undertaker smiles, feeling complete happiness take over his body. “I have more than enough so that the three of us can live comfortably. Are you two still in Germany?”

“Yes. Please tell me you’re coming to see us?” Vincent asks.

“I am. I’m taking the next flight out there. Stay where you are. I’ll get the address from Die when I land.” Undertaker puts his laptop on his lap, and finds the next flight into Munich. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“I know, Taker~. Safe travels.”

He disconnects the call, his heart swelling in his chest. Yes, they would be seeing each other soon.

***

An airplane, a train, and then a cab takes him to his destination. It takes him a total of ten hours. Ten hours that seem to be the longest hours he’s ever experienced on this earth. But, he gets to his destination, a quaint house in the forest, just barely on the edge of civilization. He waits for the cab to leave, waits for the sound of the car engine to disappear, and then makes his way up to the house.

The door’s thrown open, Vincent racing out to him. Undertaker drops his bags, bends his knees, and grabs Vincent into his arms. Sloppy kisses are exchanged, as tears fall from both of their eyes, the two sinking down to the ground as they can’t stop kissing one another. He clings to Vincent, and holds him tight against him, eyes shut tight.

“It feels so good to have you in my arms again,” he whispers in a broken voice. “I knew you weren’t dead, but I had begun to wonder if I was doing all of this for nothing.”

“I won’t die, Taker. Not when I have you and Die to live for.” Vincent hugs him back tight. “I’ve missed you so very much.”

“I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. We’re together.” He looks over at the door, and sees Diedrich is hanging back. He holds up his hand, gesturing for the man to join him. He stands up, pulling Vincent up with him, and then pulls Diedrich into a tight embrace. “Thank you for keeping him safe, Die.” He whispers into his ear, hugging him close.

“Glad you’re finally with us,” Diedrich replies, sniffling softly. “It’s been too long, Taker.”

“It has.” He pulls back, and wipes his eyes. “Now, enough of this drama. What’s a man gotta do to get a drink around here?”

Vincent takes his hand. “Come on, I’ll fix your favorite.”

***

That night, the three reconnect as one unit. It takes a little getting used to, but once they remember how things go, they fall into their habits. Undertaker gets swept away by his two lovers, falling in love with the both of them all over again. They spend the entire night in each other’s arms, and when the sun rises, they go back to it. Three years is a long time to spend apart. Even though there’s no rush, the three feel it in the back of their minds, no one wanting to admit it, but it’s there. After the third day, they all begin to level out, and soon, they build a routine in the quaint house in the German countryside.

It’s lasts for a total of five months. Five perfect, amazing months that the three just lounge around the house, or head out to the countryside. With all the money he’s saved up, there’s no need for anyone to work, so their days are literally spent just hanging out. But, it all comes to a crashing halt when Undertaker receives a text message on the phone he used to use for his assassin work.

“Fuck.” He says without thinking, looking at the message he’s just received.

“What is it, Taker?” Diedrich asks from across the room.

He rereads the message four times before setting the phone down. He looks over at Vincent. “I’ve just been sent a text for a job.”

“And? I thought you got out of the business?” Vincent asks, not really seeming interested, and goes back to the video he’s watching on his laptop.

Undertaker takes a deep breath. “Ciel is the mark.”

The silence in the room is deafening. Vincent closes the laptop, and stares at him. “Did you say the mark is Ciel?”

“I did.” He nods his head.

“He can’t die, Taker.”

“I know that, Vincent.”

“Then, how are we going to stop this from happening? He _can’t_. It would destroy Rachel, and me.”

Undertaker looks at his phone, and wonders who would be the one to get the actual assignment. “Don’t worry. I think I know how to handle this.”

“Undertaker-”

Hearing Vincent say it complete makes Undertaker’s stomach drop. “Vincent - I told you that if this should happen, I would make sure that no harm comes to him.” He stands up, and goes over to where he’s sitting. “We’ll handle this.”

Vincent turns to him, and throws his arms over his shoulders. “I can’t lose him. He can’t die. Not this young.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Undertaker holds Vincent close. He looks over at Diedrich, who goes to sit on the other side of Vincent, and joins their embrace. “Even if _I_  have to take the order, then I will, and we’ll do something like we did for you, okay? Or, I’ll make sure that whoever he’s pissed off, I’ll give them twice the bounty. How’s that sound?”

His lover nods his head. “Yes, that sounds better. None of this faking his death. He deserves to live a long time. Pay them whatever amount you can. Do whatever you must to make sure he stays safe.”

“Consider it done.”

Looking at his phone, he sees the person that takes the bounty. Of _course_  it would be him. That would make things a lot easier.

“How about we go out on the town tonight?” Undertaker suggests. “Let’s get out of this house, and go enjoy the nightlife, hmm?”

“I would like that,” Diedrich agrees. “Come on, Vin. You know it would be nice to go out like we used to.”

Their mutual lover looks at both of them. “A night out does sound rather nice.”

“Then it’s settled. We’re going out.” Undertaker nods his head.

Diedrich gets up from the couch, and heads to the bedroom, leaving Vincent and Undertaker alone. He holds his hands, and looks him in the eyes. “Vincent, he will be safe. You have my word.”

“Do you promise, Taker?” He tilts his head to the side, looking lost. “How can you be sure…?”

“It’s going to be fine.” Undertaker lifts Vincent’s hand, and places it over his heart. “I promise you, Vincent, that I will make sure that Ciel stays alive, and will not ever worry about another hit again.”

Tears spill from Vincent’s eyes. “T-Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He grins, standing up. “Come on, I think Diedrich is waiting for us.”

“I know you won’t fail.” Vincent nods. “And, I’m pretty sure you’re right. “

The two head back to the bedroom, and find Diedrich standing in just his boxer briefs, looking for something to wear. Vincent walks over to him, and yanks the German’s underwear down. One thing leads to another, and the three of them wind up on the bed, naked, all intentions of going out on the town for the night gone, having been replaced by their current activity - copious amounts of sex.

***

Undertaker heads back to London a few weeks later, knowing that when the mark takes place, it will no doubt happen here. To put a stop to it, he starts to trail Michaelis around, as he knows that Michaelis has picked up the mark for Ciel.

He knows Michaelis has a lover. He’s seen him hanging around him, but then, it stops. The man disappears. It’s as if they were never together to begin with. He gets a text, and sees that Michaelis plans on taking care of Ciel in the next 48 hours. Deciding it’s too soon, Undertaker heads to where he knows Michaeils’ lover hangs out, and casually asks him if he can buy him a drink. One drink turns into three, and then he’s pouring a handy serum into the man’s drink.

He carries him to his flat, where he’s got a room set up, just for his guest. He removes the man’s clothes - for there’s nothing quite like trying to get the truth out of a man who knows he’s naked. When he’s got him secured, he slaps his face hard with his opened hand.

“Nngh.” The man grunts, turning his face with the direction of the slap. “W-What? W-Where am I?” The man asks in a groggy voice.

Undertaker speaks in a low, threatening voice. “You’ve got information I need, and you’re going to give it to me.”

“What? What sort of prank is this?” The man looks around, then down at himself. “What the hell?? Where are my clothes?!”

“You’ll get your clothes back, as soon as you tell me what I want to know.” Undertaker moves the chains, so that the man can get a good look at himself in the mirror across the way. “Do you see yourself right now? How do you think your lover would feel if he saw you in his position?”

A choked out laugh leaves the man’s throat. “I don’t think he’d give two fucks, old man. He broke up with me.”

“Oh? That’s terrible,” Undertaker pretends to care. “I bet you’d like to stick it to him, wouldn’t you?”

“You’ve no idea.” The man’s eyes are still looking at his own reflection. “Why am I naked? Are you going to do something to me?”

“It depends~. Will you give me the information I want?” Undertaker asks, speaking softly into his ear. “Or, will I need to torture you to get it out of you?”

Honey blonde hair flies, as he shakes his head rapidly. “P-Please, don’t do that. I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Where is Michaelis?” He whispers into his ear. “You know what he is, don’t you?” 

“A-Are you an assassin too?” The man looks up at him, shock in his eyes. “What do you want with Sebas-chan?”

 _What a cute nickname_. “I want to know where he is, because he’s after someone that he shouldn’t be.”

“I don’t know where he is.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

Undertaker puts his hand around the man’s cock, and gives it a rough squeeze. “I can see you avoiding my eyes.”

“P-Please…” The man shakes his head. “I don’t know where he is.”

He gives his cock a few quick jerks, smirking when he feels the man beginning to get hard. “I will keep going, if you tell me what I want.” He speaks softly into his ear, blowing cool air against the shell of his ear. “In fact, if you tell me _everything_ , then I will make sure you have the best fuck of your life tonight.”

“….Why should I trust you?”

Letting go of his cock, Undertaker moves to stand in front of him. He pulls his zipper down, and pulls his cock out. “I believe that this will satisfy you, in a way your Sebas-chan could not.”

Undertaker can see the man looking at his cock, his tongue licking his lips. He tries to pull his hands down, but the chains do their job of holding him in place. The man makes a soft whimper, looks into his eyes, and then back down to his cock. Showing an act of faith, Undertaker releases one of the shackles, and guides the man’s hand to touch his cock. He sees the man close his eyes, the hand around his cock squeezing him experimentally. Undertaker groans low, and begins to roll his hips, hoping that it will encourage the man to speak. He puts his own hand back onto his cock, the two of them jerking each other off. All it takes is a few mutual tugs, and the man begins to spill information in a breathless voice.

“He said he’s going to some house in Chelsea tomorrow night.”

“And…?” Undertaker drags the tip of his thumb across the slit, a low moan leaving the man’s throat. “Do you know the time~?”

“S-Said….Eight…” Undertaker moves them so that their cocks rub against each other, as they keep stroking one another. “G-Gonna kill some kid…”

“Is that why he broke up with you?” Undertaker brushes his lips against the man’s, teasing him with just his lips.

“He dumped me because I told him to not do it. Nnngh…. I’m close, mister…”

“I know you are, I can feel you throbbing in my hand.” Undertaker chuckles low. “Now, then. For being such a good boy, you may come.” He has all the information he needs. “Come, _Ronald_. There’s no shame in it.”

His captive does as he’s told, his release coating his hand, as a loud moan tears from his throat. Of course he’d known his name - he knows everything there is to know about Ronald Knox. He comes a few seconds later, groaning low in his throat, the taste of success all too sweet on his tongue.

Removing the other shackle, Undertaker grabs Ronald before he falls to the floor. “Thank you for the information.” He places a syringe against Ronald’s neck, pushing the needle in, and then injects him with a narcotic. Ronald falls asleep, allowing Undertaker to go about his business for the evening.

***

“Your son is safe,” Undertaker speaks into the phone, watching as Michaelis drives off after dropping him off at the house of the man who had placed the mark on Ciel. “I gave him double what he was asking for, just as you suggested.”

“Thank you,” Vincent’s voice is thick with emotion. “Are you coming back now?”

“I can’t. I need to do some stuff here. Looks like I may be getting back into the game.”

He hears Vincent sigh. “I thought you were done with it. But, do what you must. If it’s for us, then do it.”

“It’s _always_  for the three of us.” Undertaker whispers. “I’ll see you soon, Vincent. Give Die my love, okay?”

“I will, Taker~.”

Disconnecting the call, he looks up at the sky, growing brighter as the sun rises into the sky. He doesn’t want to get back in, but it looks like he’s got no choice.

***

After a few months, things finally begin to die down. He’s finding he’s enjoying being back in the business far too much. He’d told Michaelis that he would help him out of a jam, if it ever came down to it. Never did he think he’d actually take him up on the offer, but a small part of him is glad that he does. And for some reason, he keeps winding up bumping into him.

He looks out at the Vegas strip, his most recent kill lying dead in the bathtub, looking like a suicide. He pulls his iPhone out, and calls Diedrich.

“Do you know how early it is?” Diedrich grumbles into the phone, but Undertaker can hear the happiness behind the grogginess.

“I’m in Vegas right now. There is no such thing as time here.” He chuckles. “Listen, get your things together, and meet me in Paris in a week. I’ve found a great place there, and I think the change of scenery would do us all well.” He looks at address of his kill, deciding it would be such a terrible waste for someone to snatch his mark’s beautiful property.

“Is that Taker?” He hears Vincent ask. “I want to say hi.”

“In a minute,” Diedrich says. “Okay, Paris it is. We’ll see you soon.”

“Paris?!” Vincent’s voice comes over the line loud and clear. “You’d better be there, Taker!”

“I will be. Now, go back to sleep. I’ll see you two in a week. Love you both.”

“Love you too.” Vincent hums. “Enjoy Vegas. Remember, the house always wins~.”

Undertaker hangs up, a smile on his face. Now to head back downstairs, and go see just what Michaelis is up to.

***

He decides to throw a very large party for a few close friends, who’ve been instructed to invite their friends, until he’s got the entire hotel booked. Money’s no object on this night, when he’s just wanting his friends to have the best evening that they can. He makes sure that VIncent and Diedrich are taken care of in the high roller’s room, both men thoroughly enjoying a night of playing high stakes poker.

As he looks around, making sure that security is doing their job, he sees someone he does not expect to see. He knows he did not invite him. _Michaelis_. He begins to walk over to him, and hopes that he’s not here to kill one of his friends. If he is, then he’ll be paying him off.

Undertaker doesn’t realize just what it will mean until it’s far too late to take it back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "Get on your hands and knees, and crawl to me."

* * *

Since going back into the business, the one thing Undertaker dislikes the most is that he has to leave his two lovers alone for an undetermined amount of time when he gets an assignment. That being said, one of his most favorite things is when he gets to return from said assignment, and spend all of his time with both Diedrich and Vincent. Even if he’s on a plane for hours, the moment he makes his way up the drive to their private estate near the woods, adrenaline surges through his body, knowing that he’ll be with his lovers in a span of moments, rather than what feels like an eternity while out on the job.

He has not told his two lovers that he’s on his way back, because it spoils the surprise. This trip had been shorter than most, as the job had been in Italy, not all that far away from their home. He never tells the two of them where he’s going, on the off-chance that someone might be watching their home, and try to get information out of them, just as he’d done to Sebastian’s ex-lover. To keep them safe, he just says he has to go away for awhile, both of his lovers acknowledging it as fact.

Opening the front door as quiet as he can, he slips his shoes off in the foyer, setting his overnight bag on the floor without a sound. It’s just after nine in the morning, so he moves towards the staircase, as he’s almost positive his lovers are still in bed, sleeping the morning away. That is, until he hears a sound that distinctly sounds like a low moan, coming from the sitting room to his left. He recognizes that moan, the sweet sound making him feel at home. He rounds the corner, and stops when he enters the room, taking in the beauty of what he sees.

Diedrich is sitting on the couch, Vincent kneeling on the floor between his knees, mouth working on the German’s thick cock. Both are blissfully unaware that he’s standing there, both men naked as the day they were born, for what need is there of clothes when they hardly leave the house? It truly is a sight to behold, Undertaker feeling his chest swell with pride, at how good his two lovers look together, enjoying some early morning fellatio.

The sound of Vincent’s mouth, the rough groans that only the German could make at the ministrations of their feisty lover - it puts Undertaker into quite the randy mood. Or, it could be because he can’t take his eyes off of their naked bodies, noticing how Vincent’s cock appears to be dripping down onto the carpet. What’s another stain anyway? Leaning against the entryway, Undertaker crosses his arms, and clears his throat, alerting the two to his presence.

Green eyes look over at him, Diedrich’s mouth falling open. “If I had known that bangers were to be on the breakfast menu, I would have come home more prepared.” He grins, enjoying how Vincent has not taken his mouth off of Diedrich’s cock, and instead seems to be bobbing his head faster. “Such a nice surprise to see you both in such a manner.”

“H-Heir Taker…” Diedrich’s hands fist into Vincent’s hair, as he keeps his green eyes on Undertaker’s. “Vin-Vincent had a craving.”

Smirking, Undertaker moves towards them, feeling his stomach curl possessively when he sees his other lover’s hazel eyes stare up at him, the smirk on his lips quite noticeable, even with Diedrich’s thick flesh between them. “Yes, I bet he did.” He reaches down, and pushes his fingers through Vincent’s hair, before placing his hand on top of Diedrich’s. “Now, be a good boy, and swallow everything Die gives to you, hmm?”

Both of his lovers moan low, Undertaker dropping his hand, as he moves to be behind the couch. He reaches down, and begins to drag his blunt nails up Diedrich’s chest, enjoying how his lover leans his head backwards on the couch, his mouth now gumming Undertaker’s clothed erection. He stops at Diedrich’s nipples, and begins to twist them, his reaction quite fulfilling. His hips buck, Undertaker watching as his cock goes into Vincent’s mouth fast, their lover quick to accommodate the girth against his tonsils. He gives another rough twist on his nipples, Diedrich’s mouth sucking hard on his mound, as a strained cry leaves his mouth. Undertaker watches as Vincent swallows the man’s release, some of the milky white liquid dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Hazel eyes stare into his own, Undertaker releasing a low groan, biting his lower lip as he watches Vincent’s throat, visibly watching him swallow Diedrich’s release.

He pulls away from Diedrich, and watches as Vincent pulls off of his cock, the back of his hand wiping up what little had spilled out of the side of his mouth. Undertaker pulls his clothes off, now just as naked as his other two lovers. Vincent starts to get up, but he’s quick to shake his head. “No.” Moving around the couch, he moves to sit on the loveseat, which is adjacent to the couch Diedrich is sitting on, trying to regain his breath. He sees Vincent give him a questioning look, which makes his lip curl up just a tad. “Get on your hands and knees, and crawl to me.”

Vincent makes a show of putting his palms flat on the floor, and begins to crawl towards him, swaying his hips as he does so, feline-like with his movements. Undertaker spreads his knees apart, keeping the excitement off of his face, as he stares into hazel eyes. Each movement of his crawl is causing his cock to pulsate, the reddened tip clear as day to both of his lovers. He sees Diedrich watching Vincent with the same enthusiasm as him, his body ready to play again. Without breaking eye contact with Vincent, Undertaker gives a very simple nod of his head, and can see Diedrich moving behind Vincent out of the corner of his eye.

“Have you missed me?” Undertaker asks, cupping Vincent’s cheek when he gets to be right between his knees.

“Painfully so,” Vincent nods his head, turning his head to place a soft kiss on the center of his palm. Undertaker can feel the stickiness of Diedrich’s release still clinging to Vincent’s lips, which makes him moan low. “I’m glad you’re home now~.”

“Show me how glad you are, Vincent.” Undertaker pulls his hand away, fingers sliding upwards to push the hair off of Vincent’s forehead.

Lips kiss the tip of his cock. “Yes, ‘Taker~.”

His head hits the back of the loveseat, as Vincent pulls his cock into his mouth, sucking skillfully on his girth. Undertaker moans low, spreading his knees more to feel more of Vincent’s mouth on his arousal. Warm breath tickles the sensitive skin around the base of his cock, the tip of Vincent’s nose pushing through the silver curls of hair that rest there. Diedrich is now directly behind Vincent, and Undertaker can see his cock is wet with lubricant, making it glisten in the morning sunshine that streams through the window.

“Vincent,” Undertaker moans low, pushing both of his hands through his hair to control the movements of his mouth. “Stay still for just a moment.”

Obeying him, Vincent stops moving his head, but does not stop rubbing his tongue along the underside of his cock. He moans lower, loving how much his lover teases him in just the right manner. The vibration of Vincent’s piercing moan tickles the tip of Undertaker’s cock, as Diedrich slides his cock into Vincent’s body. The three moan low together, as Diedrich places his hand around Vincent’s dripping arousal, thrusting into him slow, Undertaker pulling Vincent’s head back towards him, as his lover begins to suck on his cock once more.

Diedrich leans forward, kissing Undertaker, as Vincent’s body works on both of their cocks. Undertaker rubs his tongue against Diedrich’s a few times, before breaking off the kiss with a soft groan. Vincent begins to bob his head faster, as Diedrich’s cock slams deep into his ass, the sound music to Undertaker’s ears. He curls his fingers tighter into Vincent’s hair, and after one particular harsh suck, he tosses his head back with a loud moan, his orgasm erupting from both his chest and dick, Vincent swallowing down his essence with greedy moans. Laborious breathing fills his ears, as he looks down to see Diedrich pulling Vincent’s orgasm from his body, his hand coated in the wetness of Vincent’s release. He hears Diedrich let out a low moan, and knows that the man has found his second orgasm - or maybe it’s his fifth, as he has no idea what these two were doing before his arrival. His hips still, the three of them all breathing hard, no one ready to move.

The wet heat around his softening cock disappears, as Vincent rests his head on his upper thigh. Diedrich slips out of him, and heads into the kitchen, no doubt to grab a towel for them to use. Reaching down, Undertaker pulls Vincent up onto his lap, and gives his lover a proper kiss, the taste of his release still fresh on his tongue. Vincent moves to sit comfortably on him, his hands reaching up to pull his grey hair out of its bun, long strands of hair falling over his shoulders and the back of the loveseat.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” Vincent rests his head against his shoulder, as Diedrich hands him a towel to use on Vincent. He turns obediently towards him, allowing him to clean up the mess from his backside.   

Chuckling softly, Undertaker wipes off Vincent’s face, before giving the towel back to Diedrich. “Should I leave again?”

“No,” Vincent curls in towards him. “I hate it when you go.”

“Why? Is Diedrich such miserable company to be with?” He looks over at their other lover, who is now sitting next to them on the loveseat, Vincent stretching his legs to lay across the both of them.

“Very funny, Herr ‘Taker.” Diedrich glares at him, but only for a second before it turns into a small smile.

Their mutual lover shakes his head. “Not at all. I just prefer when all three of us can be together like this.” The thousand watt smile on Vincent’s face has Undertaker’s heart picking up its pace. “We’re family together, and when one piece of our family is missing, it doesn’t feel like home.”

“So, does it feel like home again, now that I’m here?” His fingers push Vincent’s bangs off of his forehead, a soft smile on his face.

“Maybe it does.” Vincent replies, hazel eyes displaying just how content he is. “Please tell me you’re not leaving again soon, are you?”

Shaking his head, Undertaker leans his head against Diedrich’s shoulder, a firm arm sliding behind his back, Diedrich’s hand coming to rest on his hipbone. “Not for a few months, I suspect.”

“Well, then. I guess I will get to enjoy having bangers for breakfast until then, hmm?” Vincent grins.

He cackles hard, Diedrich joining in with his laughter. “Yes, I do suppose you’re right, Vincent. But, you know, we can always enjoy a real breakfast.”

“Mmmm, fine~.” Their lover moves to straddle both of their thighs, resting one arm on each of their shoulders. “But first, why don’t we move this upstairs?”

Green eyes look over at him. “He has a point, Herr ‘Taker.”

“And he has an erection.” Undertaker teases the tip of Vincent’s arousal. “Yes, let’s go up to the bedroom, as I have missed our bed.”

“Just our bed, ‘Taker~?” Vincent slides off of their laps, and makes his way to the staircase. He throws a look over his shoulder, causing both Undertaker and Diedrich to groan inaudibly. “Such a terrible man you are. And here I thought you missed us as well~.”

“You’d better run up those stairs fast, Vin,” Undertaker stands up. “Because if you don’t-”

Their lover takes flight, racing up the stairs. Diedrich bolts after him, Undertaker laughing jovially at the antics of his lovers. He heads up the stairs, and sees both of his lovers laying on their bed, waiting patiently for his arrival. He joins them, and finds his way into a threeway kiss, savoring both of his lover’s distinct moans, as they get situated properly on the bed. It’s these moments that he misses the most when he’s away for work, and now that he’s home, he plans on enjoying them as much as he can, before money beckons him back out into the field. Or a certain fellow assassin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Can I have just one kiss?”

* * *

One of the drawbacks of Undertaker’s chosen profession are the hours he has to keep when on an assignment. Some days there are jobs that require him to be at the site at the crack of dawn, and others that require him to lie in wait for most of the day, then take out his mark in the evening. This latest mark had to be taken care of prior to midnight, just outside of Munich. Which, on the count of how close it is to his residence, is beneficial, but not when he returns at just after three in the morning. He’d prefer to not have to wake up his household, but sometimes it cannot be avoided. As it were, when he opens the front door to his country home, all the lights are out, and everything is in its rightful place. He breathes a sigh of relief, always worried that someone will find them out - especially if Sebastian had been ordered to kill Vincent, he knew it would only be a matter of time when someone else would try to do the same.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he carries his weapons bag into the closet, and locks them away, hoping that they won’t have to be used for a little bit. Too wired to sleep, he heads into the study, hoping to catch up on some reading. When he gets to the room, he stops and sees that someone is already enjoying a book, sitting in the oversized lounge chair, a case of bedhead making his black hair stick up in ways Undertaker had never seen before. He can’t help but smile, moving into the room as quietly as possible.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, biting back a laugh that rises up into his throat, as he watches his lover get startled, the book he’s got on his lap dropping down to the floor with a soft _thud_.

Diedrich looks over at him, one hand going down towards the floor to retrieve the book. “When did you get home, Herr Taker?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” He closes the door, and goes over to the other oversized lounge chair, taking a seat. “You didn’t answer my question, though. Why are you up right now?”

His lover sets the book on the armrest, and looks over at the fire still burning in the fireplace, albeit it embers now. “It is difficult for me to sleep when you are out on the job.”

“Really?” That comment surprises him. He expects that from Vincent, but not Diedrich. “Has it always been like this?”

“No.” Diedrich shakes his head. “It only began when you returned to us.”

He watches him stand up from the chair, and makes his way over to where he’s sitting. Settling back in the chair, he welcomes Diedrich on his lap, as the man straddles his thighs, facing him. “And what causes this to happen?” He asks, placing his hands on Diedrich’s hips, as he leans his head back on the cushion, to look up into his eyes.

“Worry. Fear. Anxiety.” His lover slips higher up on his lap, Undertaker keeping his eyes on his lips, as they come closer to his face.

“But, you know that I’m always going to return.” Reaching up, he places his palm against Diedrich’s cheek, who turns towards his touch. “I’d expect these sorts of things from Vincent, but not you.” His thumb strokes his cheek, as Diedrich closes his eyes, a soft sigh blowing across his wrist.

Their foreheads touch, as Undertaker slides his hand to be on the back of his lover’s head. “I know, Herr Taker. But, I still cannot help these feelings. I worry that if you do get into a bad spot, and don’t return to us, what it will do to Vincent.”

“What about you?” He asks. “What would it do to you, Die?”

“I would be lost.”

“You will never have to worry about that, Diedrich.” Undertaker places his other hand on Diedrich’s face, his thumb anchoring to Diedrich’s cheek. “Can I have just one kiss?” Whispering the words against his lover’s mouth, he waits for his answer.

A verbal answer never comes. Instead, his lover’s lips touch his, a low groan slipping from his mouth as their mouths connect the two of them together. It’s not often that Undertaker gets to enjoy moments alone with Diedrich, the few and far between always impetuous when they do get to share time together. Their kiss turns rough, but with a need that is passed between the both of them without words, Undertaker removing his hand from Diedrich’s face, placing it back on his hip. Their tongues tangle together, as both men struggle to remove articles of clothing, the desire to be closer to one another running rampant.

His zipper is pulled down, as Diedrich slides off of his lap, pulling them off of his body. Undertaker moans low, as Diedrich puts his mouth on his cock, sucking on him with the same intensity as their kiss. Pushing his fingers through his mussed up hair, he drags his nails over his scalp, moaning lower as the suction increases on his cock. “Grab the lube, Die.”

A hand slips under the cushion he’s sitting on, a stashed bottle of lube now resting in his lover’s hand. They’d taken to putting small bottles all throughout the house, as their randiness knew no bounds, so rather than have to stop their activities, Undertaker had insisted in putting bottles all around, so that the momentum didn’t have to grind to a halt. He grabs the lube from Diedrich, and pulls him back onto his lap, pouring some onto his wet girth.

“I’m good,” Diedrich straddles his thighs for a second time, moving so that he’s hovering just over the tip of Undertaker’s cock.

“Oh? Did you two switch this evening?” That news surprises him, as he knows that their other lover enjoys having Diedrich be inside of him.

He rubs the tip of his cock against Diedrich’s loose entrance. “Toys, Herr Taker,” Diedrich moans low. “He used a toy on me, as I took him.”

“You two always have the most fun when I’m gone.” His lips touch the base of Diedrich’s neck, the image of his two lovers doing these lecherous things makes his cock throb.

Warm heat surrounds Undertaker’s girth, as Diedrich slips down onto him with a low moan. “N-Next time, Herr Taker, we shall use a toy together with you.”

“An excellent plan, Die.” He moans low, waiting for his lover to get settled on his cock. Once his ass touches his thighs, he grabs onto his waist. “You know what my job does to me, don’t you…?”

“I am glad I am awake for you,” Diedrich nods his head.

Licking his lips, Undertaker stares up into his eyes. “Me too.”

Their lips come together with another rough kiss, as Undertaker thrusts his hips upwards, the loud groan that Diedrich makes is swallowed down by him. It’s fast and rough, Diedrich rolling his hips with each hard thrust that Undertaker makes with his own body. The demanding pace has Undertaker picking up his lover, who quickly wraps his legs around his waist, allowing him to carry Diedrich a few feet, before slamming him against the wall. He thrusts harder into him, their kiss breaking off as Diedrich releases a low, guttural moan.

“M-More, Taker.” The words hang thick between the two of them, as Undertaker is too happy to oblige, giving his lover what he wants. Giving him what he wants, and allowing him to take what he himself needs. A perfect balance, that can come from no one other than Diedrich.

His face presses against Diedrich’s neck, as he feels his fingers start to comb through his long locks of silver hair. Reaching between their bodies, he gives Diedrich’s cock a few rough strokes, rubbing his thumb over the tip as he pounds hard into him. He feels his lover’s inner walls clamp tight around him, as warmth begins to spill over his fist, Diedrich’s loud moan reverberating in his ear, as Undertaker’s own orgasm crashes over his body, one final thrust into his body sealing his fate.

The two breathe hard, as they come down from their shared high, lips touching with soft kisses, a complete 180 from what they had done before. Undertaker rests his head against Diedrich’s shoulder, panting softly, his softening cock slipping out of his body. The sound of someone clearing their throat has them both looking over towards the door.

“I must say, watching the two of you fuck like that is quite arousing~.” Vincent is standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. “Please, don’t mind me.”

Undertaker chuckles softly. “And just how long have you been watching us?”

“Long enough to watch the impressive aerobics of you lifting up Die, as if he weighs nothing, then slamming him against the wall.”

“Vincent,” Diedrich’s cheeks are dusted with pink. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, until I heard some noises, and decided to see what they were.” Vincent teases him, walking over to where they’re standing. “Now, if you’re both still in the mood for more, why don’t we go back upstairs, where there’s a nice, soft bed?”

Drawn to his lips, Undertaker kisses Vincent softly. “I think that sounds like a marvelous idea.”

“Good to have you home again, Taker~.” Vincent speaks against his lips. “Come along, Die. Let’s go back upstairs.”

“Yes, Vincent.”

Both men follow their lover back up to their bedroom. Undertaker can’t help but smile, as Vincent has got the both of them wrapped around his finger. Which makes him incredibly happy to be back home.


End file.
